Tuna! Celebrating San Diego's Famous Fishing Industry

Admission $6 adults, $4 seniors, $3 children 6-17; free to county residents second Tuesday of each month

Information: (619) 232-6203; sandiegohistory.org

Stroll along downtown’s waterfront and it’s hard to imagine this was once the tuna capital of the world.

Gone are the giant purse seiners and their mountains of nets, the stevedores unloading the frozen catch, the canneries where hundreds of women cleaned and packed cans of “chicken of the sea.”

Today, the waterfront teems with towering hotels, landscaped promenades, harbor excursion boats and a few sports fishing vessels. The Navy, high-tech research and development, and tourism are the top three industries. The only tuna in sight is the ahi you order at waterfront restaurants.

But 50 years ago, tuna was San Diego’s third-largest industry, behind the Navy and aerospace. It employed some 40,000 San Diegans in catching, canning and marketing the product. Two of the three big tuna canning companies were based here, and the waterfront was home to four canneries and scores of fishing boats.

The industry here might be gone, but the images are alive at “Tuna! Celebrating San Diego’s Famous Fishing Industry,” an exhibition open through December at the San Diego History Center in Balboa Park.

Tuna by the numbers

1 billion Pounds of tuna consumed by Americans per year

98 cents Average cost per quarter pound of tuna

15.8 Pounds of seafood consumed per capita in 2009, compared with 111.7 for red meat, 80 for poultry

23% American consumers who serve tuna at least once a week

52% Tuna used in sandwiches, followed by 22% in salads, 15.5% in casseroles, 7.5% in base dishes

San Diego’s tuna times began soon after the turn of the 20th century, when smelly sardines gave way to the tender white meat of canned albacore, one of five principal species of tuna.

Japanese, Portuguese, Italian and Mexican fishermen used long poles to catch albacore weighing up to 88 pounds. The seasonal fish could not meet demand, so they expanded to the smaller skipjack and larger yellowfin (on the restaurant menu as “ahi”) that can weigh up to 440 pounds.

Popularity grew during World War I, the Depression and World War II, and tuna sandwiches became a staple in every kid’s lunchbox. It’s still the second-most-popular canned fish, behind salmon, and comprises one-third of the total fish and seafood segment in the U.S.

StarKist, once based at San Pedro and now in Pittsburgh, introduced Charlie the Tuna in 1961. Locally based Van Camp Seafood popularized tuna in a 1960s jingle, “Ask any mermaid you happen to see, what’s the best tuna. Chicken of the Sea.” Chicken of the Sea is now the company name.

Bumble Bee, also based in San Diego, is the nation’s largest branded canned seafood company.

And thanks to concerns about obesity and interest in boosting omega-3 fatty acids for proper metabolism, tuna’s respect is growing beyond sandwiches and tuna noodle casserole. Its popularity in Europe and Asia is boosting demand and the price per can.

“We think it is evolving in a very positive light,” said Chris Lischewski, president and CEO of Bumble Bee Foods. “Health and wellness are huge buzzwords.”

Many old-time San Diego families have connections to the industry. Some were honored recently at the history center’s history makers gala.

"We started very early in the morning, but it depended on how many fish were there. We used to work until 10 at night, if there were a lot of boats. WE ate lunch but we didn't have a break for dinner. We were paid by the hour; the more trays we packed, the more money we made. We were paid 33 cents per hour and an extra 30 cents per tray. It was hard work, but we did it. It hurt. My arms hurt, especially at the beginning., and we would be standing the whole time."

-- Katie Asaro, 1990

Brock Wery, 64, of Pacific Beach, wandered into the history museum while his family was at the San Diego and was startled to see an image of his father, Emil, flash by in a movie capturing his time as skipper aboard the Sea Hawk after World War II.

“Those were great times,” Wery said. “San Diego was so much different back then. My dad was really happy. He loved the sea.”

But Wery, like many sons and daughters of fishing families, didn’t follow his father into the business after helping out at the docks: “I was pretty well fished out.”

Starting in the 1950s, American fishermen competed with their lower-paid Asian and Latin American counterparts by building purse seiner boats and deploying nets (the “seine”) around a school of tuna. The net was snapped shut, like a purse, closed at the bottom and brought alongside the boat where the fish were brought aboard.

Environmentalists began lobbying for tighter rules in the 1960s when dolphins and porpoises were inadvertently caught in the nets. The 1972 Marine Mammal Protection Act required American boats to take countersteps.

Then came the “tuna war” with Mexico in 1980, when American ships were fined and some seized for violating Mexico’s 200-mile coastal limits.

The San Diego fleet, which peaked at 160 vessels, sought calmer waters in the western Pacific around American Samoa, where, fortunately, dolphins did not swim with the tuna.

The last San Diego cannery, Van Camp Seafood, closed in 1984 and 12,000 jobs were lost.

By then, San Diego was in the early days of a downtown renaissance. Seaport Village had opened, Horton Plaza shopping center was under construction and a waterfront convention center and hotels were in the works.

Today, all that’s left of San Diego’s tuna times is Tuna Harbor, a marina at the foot of G Street, where the American Tunaboat Association headquarters are located and a bronze sculpture stands in tribute to the city’s tuna men.

“Fishing is a risky business, and the people who are involved in it are risk takers,” said Brian Hallman, executive director of the 40-member association. “It was Americans that pioneered the industry, the purse seiner was developed in San Diego, and now it’s all over the world. Here in San Diego, the fishermen developed that kind of industry, and we’re rightly proud of them and proud to celebrate that history.”

Julius Zolezzi at Tuna Harbor, located at the foot of G Street on the downtown waterfront.
— Eduardo Contreras

Julius Zolezzi at Tuna Harbor, located at the foot of G Street on the downtown waterfront.
— Eduardo Contreras

A fisherman and the sea

Julius Zolezzi, 82, first went to sea at 9, when he came the chief bottle washer.

“Sometimes when you’re fishing, your hands get real sore,” he recalls. “I couldn’t wait to do the dishes, because it really helped my hands feel good.”

His great-grandfather had emigrated from Genoa, Italy, and moved to San Francisco and then San Diego.

“It was the best port they saw on the whole West Coast of California and knew there was a lot of fish outside, too.”

His grandfather and father bought ever-larger boats. The Lone Wolf could handle 65 tons of fish that would be iced down.

“The main thing was to catch as much fish as fast as possible. The hard work really was automatic to us. Most of our trips last 30 to 40 days. With an ice boat, you only had a limited amount of time. You had to make sure that the ice stayed firm. If you stayed out too long, you would lose it.”

By 1981, when he was in charge, Zolezzi bought a 1,200-ton boat, the Jeannine, and shifted to the western Pacific.

“I stayed in the business for quite a while. I was a captain for 27 years at sea. My son came on board and my sons-in-law took over. I managed the boats from the office (starting in 1990s).”

Eventually, he sold the boats and concentrated on other family business.

“It would have been nice if we could have stayed here. But the world changes. We’re very lucky that we went over the ocean to the west, where there is a lot of fish. That ocean is so big over there — it’s a lot different from over here.”

Zolezzi planned to attend his grandson Nathan’s graduation in business from Santa Clara University. He’s not in fishing — he’s in the film industry.

“It’s amazing what he’s doing. They send him screenplays, he looks them over and gives them thumbs up or thumbs down. ”

Sort of like looking for the fish to bite.

Tuna boats once lined the Embarcadero, opposite the County Administration Center.
— -- San Diego History Center

Tuna boats once lined the Embarcadero, opposite the County Administration Center.
/ -- San Diego History Center